


only love (can hurt like this)

by adverbialstarlight



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Andrew Minyard Has Feelings, Character Development, Established Relationship, Family Bonding, Fluff, Introspection, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Pining, Post-Canon, Professional Exy (All For The Game), Yearning, food as an everything language, it isnt that big but might as well mention, man its been a while since i posted aftg, rated this gen but i say fuck a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:27:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29018952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adverbialstarlight/pseuds/adverbialstarlight
Summary: Neil's off visiting Matt and Dan, leaving Andrew alone for a week. He doesn't miss himthatmuch.Based off of Only Love Can Hurt Like This by Paloma Faith in the AFTG Mixtape Exchange
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, Nicky Hemmick & Andrew Minyard
Comments: 21
Kudos: 153
Collections: AFTG Mixtape Exchange 2021





	only love (can hurt like this)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ennui_ephemera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ennui_ephemera/gifts).



> this fic was written for [knox-knox](https://knox-knocks.tumblr.com/) in the AFTG Mixtape exchange! they requested [Only Love Can Hurt Like This by Paloma Faith](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=09F4s4GQd2M) which is a beautiful song, I recommend giving it a listen and giving Ham's works a read too, they're ridiculously talented.
> 
> enjoy the fic!

Andrew Minyard is not lonely. He cannot get lonely, alright, he’s just _alone_. And that’s not a bad thing. He feels absolutely nothing about it. As much as everyone around him might protest this statement, Andrew will swear by it until he’s dead— even if he’s not sure if he believes it either, anymore. It’s taken some time, but he knows that there’s not _nothing_ anymore. There’s at least a little bit of _something_ , and he tries not to let that terrify him too much.

But that isn’t the point. The point is, he doesn’t _need_ anyone, least of all Neil “Exy is My Whole Personality” Josten, and Neil doesn’t need him either. That being said, Andrew has become accustomed to Neil’s presence. He’s come to expect Neil’s presence, almost everywhere he goes. And it’s not unpleasant.

When Andrew wakes up, he expects Neil sitting in their kitchen with a glass of water in his hand and sweat on his brow, returning from his morning run. He expects the reddish-orange fox mug waiting for him by the coffeemaker, placed there carefully by Neil before he left. He expects Neil’s hoodies draped over the sofa and exy games on the DVR. He expects _Neil_. He expects it like Nicky’s weekend calls and Aaron’s scowl and the disapproving _tsk, tsk_ of the Denver Boulder’s head coach when Andrew doesn’t bother trying on the field.

So to have Neil gone, with his seat at the kitchen table empty and the orange juice lid properly sealed, is strange. Walking around the apartment with only the company of two of the most cryptic cats Andrew has ever encountered feels wrong. Everything’s too quiet without Neil’s quiet chatter with King from the pantry and his loud cheering during every single collegiate exy game. Though there’s barely enough room for two grown men and two cats in the apartment, it has expanded into a hollow cathedral.

If you asked him, he does _not_ miss Neil. He’s not fucking _yearning_ , like some pathetic housewife sitting by the window waiting for his return. Still, Andrew can’t help but do a double take every time he doesn’t see Neil lounging around. He feels a pang in his chest when he remembers, even if it’s barely been a few days since Neil left. It’s absolutely pathetic.

When Neil first brought up going back east to visit Matt and Dan for a few days, Andrew could not care less. He simply shrugged, shoved some more noodles into his mouth.

“I don’t control your life,” he said flatly. “See them if you want to.”

Neil’s lips quirked up fondly. “Yes, I know that,” he said, rolling his eyes. “It’s just that a week is kind of a while to be gone, right? I’m going to miss you, believe it or not.”

Andrew scoffed. “No you won’t,” he said airily.

They both knew he didn’t believe that, Neil’s smile only widened. “I’ll text you every day and everything.”

“Don’t bother, spend time with your fake parents,” Andrew said. “Sir is the only nuisance I need in my life.”

Neil twirled some noodles around his chopsticks. “We both know Wymack is the fake parent.”

Andrew shrugged and they fell back into silence. Neil stole a mushroom from Andrew’s stir fry and scooped out a wonton in exchange. The rest of their dinner was pleasant, and Andrew didn’t think much about it for the rest of the night. Neil deserved to see friends who weren’t Kevin, Andrew knew, and it was only a week. He was going to be fine.

And four days in, he is. The only problem is, though they touched briefly on Neil missing Andrew, he hadn’t factored in how much he’d miss Neil. Andrew isn’t an idiot, he’s been working on _feeling_ and knew it’d be okay to miss Neil. He just thought it’d be easier than this.

His entire life, Andrew has been alone. Even after he found Aaron and Nicky, Bee and Kevin, and even Neil, there was still a chasm between Andrew and everyone else for a long while. Andrew assumed it’d be easy to slip back into that same routine of solitude. He is not lonely.

And yet, it only took two days and a short call— it wasn’t anything spectacular, just a _hey, I’m alive, miss you, don’t forget King’s meds, bye_ — to be proven maybe wrong. Since then, Andrew’s gone through the regular motions of cooking and cleaning and playing with the cats and reading books and hanging up on Kevin because it’s fun, but he’s restless.

Every moment that Andrew allows a pause, he remembers Neil again. He thinks about Neil’s ridiculous mischief maker’s smile when he passes Neil’s old jersey hanging in the hall, the way Neil chars his toast in the name of flavor every time Andrew glances at the toaster. Even just sitting with the cats makes him think of Neil, the way his eyes lit up the first time he saw Sir in a shelter and declared that they were adopting her.

He thinks about the way Neil’s hands are calloused but soft in his own, the carefulness but overpowering adoration whenever he kisses Andrew. He thinks about the patience in Neil’s voice whenever he whispers _yes_ , the understanding in his eyes when Andrew says _no_.

Andrew is broken from his haze by a quiet meowing by his ear. He turns to see Sir sitting on the arm of the couch, unblinking as she stares at Andrew. She’s sitting on top of one of Neil’s obnoxious, traffic cone orange hoodies that Andrew hasn’t bothered to put back in the closet, watching with some sort of expectation. Andrew shakes his head, trying to clear it, and stands up.

This shouldn’t be possible— Andrew Minyard does not _miss_ people. Not like this, not so deeply and so pathetically. He’s felt loss before. He’s felt it so many painful ridiculous times— it’s even been Neil, that one night with the riot— but it always simmered as a numb, building rage. This, waiting for Neil in a non-dire, absolutely foolish way, is more like waiting than searching this time. Because this time he knows that Neil is alright, he will be coming home.

And much to his surprise, Andrew finds himself looking forward to it. He could never forget the deep, icy blue of Neil’s eyes, but he would never turn down the reminder. _When did you become a sap_? he wonders to himself, wandering into the kitchen.

For a long moment he simply stands there, surveying the space. On the refrigerator are various magnets and papers and photos, many of them exy related and most collected by Neil. A few plants sit in the windowsill that Andrew makes a mental note to water tomorrow. Though cleaned, the granite countertop is slightly scuffed from cats wandering around on it. For not the first time, Andrew realizes just how much it looks like a home in here. A place of permanence and comfort. A place of— well, there’s no point going there.

Andrew opens one of the cabinets over the stove and climbs onto the counter, pulling down various bags, a recipe half forming in his head as he takes stock of everything they have. King wanders over and nudges the box of flour to the side, peering up at Andrew in interest as he reaches for some vanilla abstract.

He makes eye contact with her and glowers. “Hush,” he tells her, feeling the judgment in her stare. King only meows.

About three hours later, Andrew is deep in cake decorating mode. He’s not sure he’s blinked at all in the past few minutes but he doesn’t quite care either, he needs these embellishments to be perfect. Right as he lifts his frosting tip from the last swirl of royal icing at the base, his phone buzzes on the counter.

Andrew straightens, wiping some flour off on his black jeans, and picks it up. When Nicky’s name flashes across the screen, Andrew debates ignoring him. Then he remembers that not picking up will only earn him at least two more tries and answers, hitting the speaker button before going back to his work.

There’s still fondant flowers left to make and he’ll have to finish the rest of the first layer before his icing sets. If he uses some toothpicks, the colors can probably blend better for the top layer.

“Andrew!” his cousin shouts enthusiastically.

“Nicky,” he replies. “It’s four in the morning in Germany.”

“Correct. Your point is?”

“Then why are you calling me?” Andrew asks, grabbing some red fondant. “You’re not asleep.”

“Correct again,” Nicky says. In the background, Andrew can hear a door shut and Nicky thanking someone. There’s some shuffling then he adds, “But I’m not in Germany right now! You’ll never guess, actually.”

Before Andrew can reply, there’s some mechanical whirling on Nicky’s end and he gets a pretty good idea about the answer to that question. “Nicky I swear to god if you’re—”

“Knock knock!” Nicky shouts. Confirming Andrew’s suspicions, there’s a knock at the front door, a sound that’s echoed through his phone speaker.

Sighing, Andrew sets the fondant down, eyeing King as he makes his way to the door at a leisurely pace. Through the phone, he can hear Nicky say, “Uhh, hello? Andrew? Please tell me you’re home or this is gonna be _really_ embarrassing because—”

Andrew swings the door open and Nicky is standing with a small fruit basket and rambling into his phone still. When he looks up, he stops midsentence and grins widely. He doesn’t try to hug Andrew, thankfully, even if he looks like he really wants to. “Surprise!”

Staring at his cousin, Andrew hangs up the phone. “What the fuck are you doing.”

Nicky lets himself in, kicking off his shoes and setting his things on the couch as he talks. “Since Neil’s out this week, I thought you might want some company! I know you’ve got your whole need nothing thing going still but I know how it can be, it’s tough especially for so long. But with some company and other things to do, the time will fly right on by!”

Andrew has to admit that it’s considerate of Nicky, especially coming all the way here just to pester Andrew for a few days. He appreciates it, he realizes, and Andrew is, not for the first time, grateful for Nicky. Still what leaves his lips is, “Aren’t you basically just doing that to your boyfriend coming here?”

“Psh, Eric is okay for three days, we’ve survived longer,” Nicky says, a small smile on his lips. “And besides, this isn’t about _me_ , it’s about you. What’ve you been up to the past few days? Not too much moping, I hope.”

Andrew sneers. “I do not _mope_.”

“Then why did you make a cake?” Nicky asks, brow raising as he glances at the table. “You only bake when you’re in distress. Oh don’t give me that look Andrew, I know you don’t like being perceived but we’re family, I know things.”

“Can’t I just make a fucking cake because I want to?” Andrew says through gritted teeth.

Nicky’s face softens a bit. His head tilts as he studies Andrew, hesitating a moment before saying, “You know you’re allowed to miss him.”

Andrew rolls his eyes, returning to his cake supplies. He squeezes the frosting tube a bit too tight when he continues lining the edges. “I know that,” he says, and he does. “It’s just pathetic.”

“Pathetic? For missing Neil?” Nicky ask. Andrew shrugs and Nicky stands to stand in the kitchen as well, leaning against the counter. “It doesn’t mean anything _bad_ , you know, just that you care. And caring, believe it or not, can be a good thing especially in a relationship.”

Andrew drops the icing again and closes his eyes. He avoids Nicky’s eyes and mutters, “I don’t fucking know. I don’t do… _this_. I don’t want to be the dependent moron. I can’t be.”

“And you’re not,” Nicky says firmly. “You’re doing something right now, aren’t you? You have your own friends and interests and life can go on without Neil, or alongside him. It isn’t giving too much to think about Neil, to miss him when he isn’t around for a while. That’s just how love works. You know the saying. ‘Only love can hurt like this’ and whatnot.”

“Love,” Andrew mutters to himself, ignoring Nicky’s entirely bullshitted on the spot proverb. The word is odd in his mouth, something that shouldn’t have ever made its way onto his tongue. Once he would’ve spat the word out, something wretched and detestable, but it’s— nice, he supposes

“That’s what it is, isn’t it?” Nicky asks, his grin returning. His crinkled eyes dare Andrew to deny it, and Andrew finds that he _can’t_. Nicky, as overwhelming and optimistic and ridiculous as he can be, is right.

Andrew doesn’t reply. He simply picks up the frosting bag again and continues working on his cake. Nicky beams, and if Andrew’s lips twitch a bit as well, no one has to know. Nicky helps out with the cake and offers Andrew a nice bottle of wine at dinner.

Though his cousin is still as loud and enthusiastic as he’s always been, Andrew finds it less suffocating than he did before. The company is pleasant, it breathes life back into the quiet apartment. Nicky seems content to prattle on to a stoic Andrew or sit in silence, just as they had when Andrew was younger. On his last night, Nicky even cooks dinner.

“So,” Nicky says as they sit down with their hamburgers. “Did you talk to Neil today?”

Andrew rolls his eyes. “He called yesterday.” When Nicky motions for him to go on, Andrew reluctantly says, “They went kayaking or something. Wasn’t special. Lasted five minutes.”

“But was it _nice_?” Nicky asked, trying to get at something Andrew didn’t quite understand.

Andrew stands up and starts walking away, ignoring Nicky’s desperate, “no, no, no wait!” from behind him. Still, he walks slowly, letting Nicky come up right behind him, almost putting a hand on Andrew’s shoulder but pulling it away just as quickly.

Deciding to give his cousin some slack, mainly because he doesn’t want to let that hamburger go to waste, Andrew spins around and crosses his arms. “What.”

“I’m sorry if I’m being too excited over this, I’m just happy for you guys,” Nicky says, looking down. “I understand if you two don’t really throw that word around much but you guys, you fit. You’re good together, you know? And I think that’s really nice.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Andrew says flatly, walking past Nicky and sitting down again. But as he eats, something warm fills his chest as he replays Nicky’s words. _We’re good together_. They aren’t right now, but tomorrow, they will be. Andrew would never admit just how… _happy_ the thought makes him.

When they finish eating, Andrew goes to wash the dishes and Nicky starts off for the guest room before his early flight. Andrew turns on the tap and picks up the sponge. Before Nicky fully exits the kitchen area, Andrew calls after him, “It was.”

Nicky doesn’t reply, but Andrew knows that he’s grinning. He doesn’t mind it. Not too much.

He doesn’t mind when Nicky goes in and gives Andrew a hug the next morning either, muttering softly in Spanish. When the one bag Nicky brought is loaded into the Uber, he turns back and gives Andrew a knowing look. Andrew flips him off and with that Nicky’s gone.

The apartment goes back to a state of emptiness and restlessness. Andrew reads for a bit, King sitting on his foot for a few minutes before huffing and wandering off when he can’t stop bouncing his leg. Every so often, Andrew glances at the fox-face shaped clock on the wall— a piece that Andrew and Neil picked up at a downtown flea market once solely for the irony. He always knows what time it is, but can’t help the frustration at the slowness of time.

At long last, the hands move to 2:50 and Andrew practically leaps up. In a completely nonchalant, cool way, of course. Shoving his feet into his boots and swiping his car keys off the table, he pats Sir once on the head and leaves for the airport.

Though it’s normally a half hour drive, Andrew’s never cared much for the limits. He speeds along the highway and towards the airport in silence. Neil’s flight should be landing around 3:30, but Andrew doesn’t bother looking at the time when he parks. He simply strides in, hands shoved in his pockets and not even glancing at any signs. Andrew memorized the layout of DIA years ago.

There are a few people who recognize him as Andrew makes his way through, but he doesn’t pay any of the stares or shy attempts at conversation any mind. His face remains impassive, his step unwavering. Even when Andrew makes it to the waiting area, he leans against the railing and continues tapping his fingers ever so slightly.

It’s about five minutes after Andrew arrives that passengers begin pouring out of the doorway. Andrew scans the exhausted faces intently for the one face he’s picked out a thousand times before. His heart is pounding in his chest but at this point, he’s too focused on searching for Neil to care.

A shock of bright red hair turns the corner from the escalators a few moments later, swiftly moving through the crowd with purpose. From the movement alone Andrew would be able to recognize him, but the passenger’s identity is confirmed when his icy blue eyes meet Andrew’s own. The scars on Neil’s cheeks stretch a bit as he grins, picking up his pace to meet Andrew.

When they’re only inches away Neil realizes the barrier between them and, without hesitation, climbs over. A security guard protests from somewhere behind Andrew, but neither pays them any mind. Neil only smiles wider and says, “Hi.”

With that one word, Andrew explodes with feelings. It’s more than any rooftop or exy game or anything else, a bright chaotic burst inside his chest. It _aches_ and it _pulls_ , and Andrew almost wants to smile back. He wants to kiss Neil right here, damn everyone else. He wants to take his scarred hands and run his hands over those slender fingers.

Instead, Andrew easily lifts Neil’s two suitcases over the barrier then takes that familiar hand into his own. Neil squeezes their intertwined fingers with a knowing look in his eyes. They head back to the parking lot and Andrew thinks maybe that Nicky was onto something with that bullshit proverb. After all, how else can he explain the goddamn freight train of weight that hits him when Neil’s fingers brush his, tangling together perfectly?

Andrew has built up a robust vocabulary over his lifetime. He’s got an entire thesaurus in his brain and a word, a definition, for anything possible. And yet, the word he keeps coming back to when he thinks of _this_ , of him and Neil, is one his cousin only truly taught him the definition of last night. _Love_.

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact almost every aftg fic I end up writing a scene where I made andreil eat pasta and make decisions. it's terrible but also hilarious. anyway, I hope you liked the fic, especially Ham, and thank you to the mods for running the event. if you watch the music video for this song be prepared for the wig bc that surprised me so fucking hard agshfd
> 
> thanks for reading, if you want you can catch me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/adverbialnouns) or [tumblr](http://adverbialstarlight.tumblr.com)! i will also plug my giftee again because i'm a fan so find ham on ao3 under [ennui_ephemera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ennui_ephemera/)


End file.
